Page 92 of This Love

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She nodded. “Could you sit with me for a second?”

I didn’t want to. I was ready to get back in the room the moment I was allowed, but maybe I wouldn’t be allowed if I didn’t pass her test.

“Sure.” I followed her down the hall to a section of chairs. They were empty.

“Let me make sure I have the details right,” she said.

We went through the basic questions. Names. Address. Birthdates.

“Can you tell me how Ava got the bruises? The nurses are concerned about her condition.”

I had to get this right. “Ava has epilepsy. We have a seizure dog at home to help her. My best guess since the EMTs were already there when I got home from work is that she fell when she had the seizure, and Rosie called 911.”

“The dog called an ambulance?”

“We have a special service dog phone. Rosie is highly trained.”

She used a stylus to take notes on an iPad. “I see. So, you were at work all day?”

“Yes, I left at eight that morning.”

“And Ava was alone?”

“She was with Rosie.”

More scribbles. “Did she have the bruise when you left that morning?”

What was she talking about? I already told her how she got it.

But I had to be calm. “She did not.” I decided to repeat myself. “She most likely got it when she had the seizure.”

“How do you know she had a seizure if you weren’t there? Did she tell you?”

Now, we would get to the part that was hard to believe. “Because she lost her memory.”

“Her memory?”

“Yes, her seizures cause her to lose her memory. That’s why it’s critical that I get back in there with her.”

Clarissa lifted an eyebrow. “Are you afraid of what she might say when you’re not in the room?”

What the hell? “No. She can say whatever she wants. I’m worried about her.”

“Because she lost her memory.” More scribbles.

I should have answered differently. I tried again. “The dog calls 911 if she detects a seizure.”

“I see. How often does Ava have these seizures?”

“Rarely. It’s been over a year.”

“And the dog always catches them?”

“This is the first one since we got her.”

“I see.” More writing.

I tapped my foot impatiently. “Are we done?”

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